


As We Learn

by butterflyslinky



Series: Gotham Fairytales [2]
Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Snow White Fusion, Attempted Murder, Background Relationships, F/F, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12628416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky
Summary: Diana Prince has just been thrown out of her aunt's household. By chance, she's taken into the house of Wayne as a security guard, where she's quickly caught up in a twenty-year-old mystery about her past and her country.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? Gal Gadot and Amy Adams made me ship it, so I had to give them the fairy tale treatment.

Lois smiled as she read over the assignment. An interview with the new CEO of LexCorps. It was the biggest story of the year, and it was all on her.

A seventeen-year-old girl, just out of high school, being given a multinational company as a graduation present. Oh, it was too good to be true. Of course, the moment Stephanie Brown-Wayne had been announced as the new CEO, the stocks plummeted, the people panicked, and the speculation abounded about whether Bruce Wayne was simply trying to make it look like he didn’t have a monopoly over all of Gotham. Which he sort of did.

And Lois was going to get the juicy details. She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

“LexCorps office, this is Maggie, how can I help you?”

“Hello, Maggie. This is Lois Lane of the Daily Planet, and I wondered if Ms. Brown-Wayne would have time for an interview sometime.”

“Ms. Brown-Wayne is very busy, but I can ask.”

“Thank you.” Lois gave her call-back number, with the feeling she was about to hit it big.

*

“Diana!”

Diana looked up from where she had been scrubbing. “Yes, Aunt Circe?”

Circe was glaring at her. “You were supposed to be finished with this floor an hour ago!”

Diana sighed. “I was,” she said. “But it was not to standards.”

“None of this place is to standards,” Circe snapped. “I took you in out of the kindness of my heart, and what did we agree?”

“That I would keep the house clean,” Diana said, her voice flat. The conversation was familiar and frustrating.

“That’s right. You were a soldier, it shouldn’t be difficult for you!”

“No, ma’am…I’ll do better.”

“I’ll do better, she says,” Circe said. “Every day, I’ll do better. But does she ever do better?” She shook her head. “When your mother died, I gave you a place. When you ran off to join the army, you broke my heart. And then you show up back on my doorstep after your discharge, begging to come back, and I agreed, and what have I gotten? Nothing but laziness and ingratitude!”

Diana flinched. “I…I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“Finish this,” Circe said. “And get on with the rest of your work. And if your attitude hasn’t improved by tomorrow, you’re going back on the street!” With that, Circe turned on her heel and swept away.

Diana looked down at the floor, clenching her jaw to keep herself from crying. Every day for the last two years, it had been like this. She didn’t know why Circe hated her so much, only that she always had. Diana had tried to escape, had joined the Army as a way out. It had been wonderful, until a bullet through the ribs had ended her career.

Now, she had nothing but her aunt’s mercy, and that was quickly running out.

*

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lane, but I’m afraid Ms. Brown-Wayne is unavailable for the next few days, but if you’re willing to wait until next week, she’ll be happy to speak with you then.”

Lois sighed. “All right…Friday work for her?”

“I will put you in the schedule.”

Lois hung up and went to see her editor. “Story on LexCorps will be late,” she said. “The CEO isn’t available until next week.”

White frowned, looking up from his paper. “Why not?”

Lois shrugged. “The secretary didn’t say, so I imagine it’s personal.”

“Hmm…” White looked thoughtful. “What could be so personal that Stephanie Brown-Wayne is unavailable for an entire week that we don’t know about?”

“I don’t know,” Lois said. “But I’m not going to find out if they don’t want to tell us.”

“Where’s the old Lane spunk?” White asked.

“Back in my office,” she said. “I’ve got the interview next week…might be better not to get on her bad side first.”

“Fair,” White said. “In the meantime, Olsen’s called out and he had that photo shoot with Circe Prince this afternoon…think you could cover for him?”

“Sure,” Lois said. “Won’t be half as glamorous, though.”

“It’s newsprint,” White said. “I don’t care about glamorous, I care about having something above the copy.”

*

The doorbell rang. Diana immediately went to answer. Circe had made it clear how important this photoshoot was and Diana was afraid of the consequences if she ruined it.

The moment the door opened, Diana was at a loss for words because the woman on the doorstep was about the most amazing creature she’d ever laid eyes on. She was quite short, but somehow seemed much taller than Diana, dark-haired, brown-eyed, and an expression that clearly conveyed she would murder anyone who got in her way. She was dressed professionally, trousers that clung close to perfect legs, white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, camera around her neck.

Diana had never fallen in love with anyone so quickly.

“Hi,” the woman said. “Lois Lane, Daily Planet…are you Circe Prince?”

“No,” Diana croaked. “She’s in the other room…getting ready for you.” She felt so dumb in front of this woman. “Please…come in.” She stood back to let Lois Lane into the house. Lois walked like a queen, like a warrior, like Diana used to walk before her years in servitude had broken her down.

Lois followed Diana into the large sunlit living room, all white furniture and carpeting. Circe was there, in red, looking like the devil herself. She smiled sharply. “You must be from the Planet,” Circe said.

“Lois Lane,” Lois said, extending her hand. “So sorry Jimmy couldn’t be here…he got the flu.”

“A shame,” Circe said. “Still, best not miss this…would you care for a drink, Ms. Lane?”

“Just water,” she said.

Circe nodded to Diana, who happily took the opportunity to flee to the kitchen.

Once the door was closed, Diana stood for a moment, trying to breathe. She took quick stock of herself—black pants that had seen better days, grey shirt that was too ratty for much besides cleaning. Hair curling out of control because she hadn’t conditioned it in weeks. Face bare, no makeup, a bit dry.

And of course the most perfect woman in the world had chosen that day to walk through her door.

Diana tried to pull herself together. It was too late to change now, too late to do her hair at all. Besides, what did she care what a pretty woman thought? If Lois was attracted to her, that wouldn’t change even with primping. Diana nodded. Yes. It was fine.

She fetched two glasses, filled them with water, and carried them back to the living room. Circe was in the center of the room, standing like a queen with her back to the door. Lois was snapping pictures from various angles. The camera flashed just as Diana stepped through the door, tray in her hands.

Lois stood up, snapped a few more pictures, then looked up. “Thanks,” she said.

Circe turned. “Thank you, Diana,” she said, taking the tray. “You’re dismissed.”

Diana bowed her head and left the room. She went back to the kitchen, intending to scrub every inch of it in the hopes that Lois Lane would leave her head soon.

*

The photoshoot took forever, mostly because Circe Prince was the most pompous, vain, fussy, impossible person Lois had ever met.

Or maybe it was just impatience on her part, because Lois’s mind was far away from her work.

She thought she would faint when the literal Amazon opened the door. How did anyone look that beautiful? So tall, so tanned, dark curls in her black eyes and a face that, while tired, was still hopeful, determined, strong. A t-shirt just a little too tight, emphasizing strong arms (and very ample breasts if Lois was honest), pants a bit ratty but framing her legs and ass nicely. Lois felt like such a creeper watching the woman, but she couldn’t help it.

And maybe she’d been a bit indulgent snapping so many photos with her in the shot, even if the girl was only a servant. Actually, Lois wasn’t sure about that. There was something in her—Diana, Ms. Prince had called her—something in Diana’s demeanor that indicated she wasn’t a servant, or at least, hadn’t always been.

The way she stood and walked was all military. A soldier’s stride, a soldier’s shoulders. Lois knew that look well—her father had always carried it. Diana’s face wasn’t that of a soldier, though…at least, it wasn’t now. She looked more like a princess, proud and bright. What a waste, that she should be employed as a housekeeper when she could easily command legions.

Lois dropped the memory card off at the photography station and went back to her computer. Clearly, some research was in order. Her other assignments could wait—right now, Lois needed to know who Diana was.

*

“You’ll be off the grid for how long?” Dick asked.

“We haven’t decided,” Bruce said as he considered his suits. “A month or two at least.”

“It’s the only way t’git any sort of privacy,” Clark added, passing two phones over to Dick. “Look after these.”

Dick took the phones, looking a bit unhappy. “I don’t like it,” he said bluntly. “I mean…I know you want your marriage to be kept quiet until you’re gone and can’t be found, but what if there’s an emergency around here? How are we supposed to get in contact with you?”

“I’ve left a full itinerary with Alfred,” Bruce said. “Who I trust not to run his mouth.” He gave Dick a pointed look.

Dick shook his head at Clark. “Let one project detail slip and pay for it the rest of your life,” he said.

Clark rolled his eyes. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m sure y’can look after everythin’ while we’re gone and not have Alfred call us unless it’s a real emergency. And I do mean ‘oh dear, surely I had six siblin’s when we started’ emergency.”

“I think we can lower the emergency level a little,” Bruce said.

“Y’ain’t taken a real vacation in years,” Clark said. “Trust me, I had Babs check yer records. And this is our honeymoon, and I ain’t gonna be interrupted fer anythin’ below the level of Cass has been eaten by a crocodile.”

“I will have to sleep occasionally,” Bruce said.

Dick made a face. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

*

The moment Diana picked up the morning paper, she knew there was going to be trouble. The article about Circe Prince and her international trade empire was on the first page, a full-color photo of Circe gracing the top.

And in the background of the picture was Diana, holding a tray as she reentered the room.

Why had they chosen that picture? Why not one of the dozens of others Diana was sure Lois had taken? Why, oh why did she have to be in this one?

But she had no choice but to carry the paper in to Circe, sitting in her parlor having he morning tea. “Thank you, Diana,” she said, picking up the paper.

Diana started to creep back to the kitchen, hoping she could escape before Circe noticed the picture. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite quick enough and heard the shatter as Circe dropped her teacup.

Diana froze, hoping it wouldn’t be so bad…

“That…no…” Circe looked absolutely furious. “Diana!” she snapped.

“Y-yes?” Diana said.

“What did you say to that reporter?”

“I…nothing,” Diana said.

“Then why is your picture in the paper?”

“I’m sure it was an accident…”

Circe picked up the plate and threw it at her. Diana barely managed to dodge it in time. “YOU TOLD HER TO PHOTOGRAPH YOU!” Circe screamed. “WANTED TO TAKE THE GLORY? WANTED THE WORLD TO SEE YOU?”

“N-no…”

“You are a vain, stupid, selfish girl! Get out!”

“Aunt Circe…”

“Out of this house! Out of my life!” She stood and grabbed Diana by the hair, dragging her to the door before flinging her out. “Don’t you dare come back here!” she said, and slammed the door.

Diana stood stock still, shocked. She’d always known she could end up like this, but so suddenly, with nothing but the clothes on her back…

Then again, was it so bad? She was out of there…out of that madhouse. She could find a job…

Except she had no ID, no paperwork. Nothing to prove who she was. Diana shivered a bit before she turned and started walking. If nothing else, she could at least find a place to beg. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a shelter…a veteran’s affairs office…someone who could help her.

Yes. She would be fine. Circe didn’t matter. She was Diana, and she was a soldier. She would be fine.


	2. Chapter 2

Damian was not having a good day.

His father had been off the grid for over a week. His brothers and sisters were all being annoying. Cass didn’t want to spar with him, saying something about her stupid math club. His best friend had been sick.

And now someone had grabbed him away from his security.

Damian kicked and bit and scratched, but it was no use. There were at least five masked men pulling him into a van (and really, an unmarked van? What was this, the amateur hour?) and while Damian had taken plenty of self-defense classes, his size put him at a definite disadvantage.

Which is how he found himself with his hands tied, his eyes covered and his mouth gagged, listening to a bunch of morons discuss how much the ransom would be worth. And to add insult to injury, they were lowballing it.

Damian was easily worth more than two million dollars.

They finally stopped. Damian had been listening to the sound of the city and counting the time, so he knew they were far away from the manor, far away from any real help. He sighed and hoped that Grayson would just pay them quickly so he could go home. He had an essay to write for school and he doubted his teacher would accept “I was kidnapped” as an excuse for it not being finished.

The kidnappers dragged Damian out of the car, pushing him roughly. Damian wished he could see. At least then he’d be able to get a good kick at them…

“HEY!”

They stopped. Damian stood still, waiting…had someone already come? Or was it just a passerby who thought this looked odd?

There were more shouts, blows, a gunshot or two, and then silence for a long moment before someone was untying him.

“Are you all right?” A woman’s voice, with a trace of an accent. Damian removed the gag and blindfold.

A young woman knelt before him, dark-haired and dark-eyed. Something in her face was familiar, though Damian wasn’t sure what. What he did know was that the five men were all unconscious around her, all bruised and bloody.

“You defeated them all,” Damian said.

“Yes,” the woman said. “Are you hurt?”

“I am uninjured,” Damian said. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” the woman said. “What’s your name? I can walk you home.”

“I am Damian Wayne,” Damian said. “I would be pleased if you would call a taxi to take me home.”

She blushed. “Do you have a phone?” she asked.

“They took it,” Damian said.

She sighed and stood. “I can walk you home,” she repeated. “I, um…I don’t have much of anything.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know that you will not attempted to recapture me?”

“I wouldn’t,” she said.

“Then what is your name?”

“Diana Prince,” she said. She offered her hand. “Are you coming?”

Damian looked at her for another moment. He didn’t know why, but he trusted her. Something in him pulled towards her, like he’d been waiting to meet her but didn’t know it until now.

Slowly, he took her hand. “You may escort me,” he said.

*

Dick was going to murder someone. Actually, several someones, starting with most of the household staff.

“HOW DID YOU LOSE HIM?!” he roared at the hapless bodyguard. “YOU HAD ONE JOB! ONE FUCKING JOB, AND YOU COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY…”

“Master Richard,” Alfred said from behind him. “I know that losing Master Damian is unacceptable, but perhaps the best course of action would be to wait for the police to retrieve him instead of shouting at everyone?”

Dick took a few deep breaths. “Fine,” he said. “All you fuckers are fired. Alfred, please advertise for new security guards in the morning. Now get out.”

The now-ex guards all exchanged a look before they turned and left. Dick watched them all go, shaking.

One week. Bruce left for one week and already Damian had been kidnapped. They’d gotten the call five minutes ago, demanding a sum of two million dollars for his safe return. A fairly low number, sure, but Dick knew better than to just give into the demands. He knew that there was a good chance Damian had already been hurt.

And that was assuming he was still alive.

Babs stepped up next to him and hugged him. “We’ll get him back,” she said. “The police will find him…if it’s more than a few hours, we can send out an Amber Alert…”

“How do we know he’s fine?” Dick asked. “Babs, if he’s dead…”

“He isn’t,” she said, her voice insistent, almost hysterical. “We just have to wait…”

“Have you called Bruce?” Dick asked Alfred.

“I was hoping for more news first,” Alfred said. “I do not wish to panic Master Bruce at this stage.”

“His son’s just been kidnapped!” Dick said. “I’d say that’s a good thing to panic about!”

“Dicky!” Babs said. “You need to calm down...Alfred’s right, the police will have Damian back before Bruce can do anything. I mean…what’s he going to do, fly back from…wherever just to sit here and fret with us?”

Dick struggled to get himself under control. “You’re right,” he said. “Just…Bruce and Clark trusted me and…”

“And you’re dealing with it,” Babs said.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Dick dove for the door and burst into tears of relief when Damian was standing there. He barely noticed the woman standing behind him as he grabbed Damian up in a hug.

“Oh, thank God,” Dick sobbed into Damian’s shoulder.

Damian tsked. “I am fine, Grayson,” he said.

“You were kidnapped!”

“Details.”

Dick looked him over, making sure he wasn’t injured before he released Damian. “Thank you,” he said, finally looking up at the woman standing there.

She smiled. “It was my pleasure,” she said.

“This is Diana Prince,” Damian said. “She is a well-trained fighter and she brought me home.”

“Dick Grayson-Wayne,” Dick said. “I’m Damian’s brother…please, come in!”

Diana hesitated a bit. “I…”

“At least let us get you some coffee,” Dick said. “And I’m sure Bruce would want to reward you…”

“I do not require any reward,” she said. Her accent was a bit odd, her face beautiful and something around her eyes and nose was oddly familiar. “I did not wish for a child to be harmed…any child.”

“At least coffee,” Dick said. “And let us drive you home.”

“I…” Diana swallowed. “I have no home,” she admitted. “So your time would be wasted…and I do not want any charity.” She turned to go.

“Do you want a job?”

She half-turned back. “What?”

“A job,” Dick repeated. “You rescued Damian from…how many?”

“Five,” Damian said.

“Five kidnappers,” Dick said. “You’re obviously well-trained…and you brought him home safely without thought of reward…plus I just fired all of Damian’s security detail, so I’m going to need a replacement.”

“I…” Diana looked shocked.

Damian tsked again. “I do not require a babysitter,” he said.

Dick ignored him. “Come on,” he said. “We can talk it over in the kitchen…or you can walk away.”

Diana hesitated for another moment before she smiled. “I would like to hear the details.”

Dick smiled and led her inside.

*

Diana tried not to stare as she followed Dick into the manor. The whole place was clean and bright, much like Circe’s house, but somehow warmer. Not as austere and sterile. It felt more like a home, where a real family lived.

They went to a large kitchen, which was much messier than the hallways. It was clearly a common room of sorts, dishes scattered and cupboards open.

Four more people were in there, two young men and two teenage girls. The eldest of them looked up as they entered and his face cleared. “Thank fuck,” he muttered when he saw Damian. “I was sure Bruce was gonna have to kill us this time.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Jason,” the blond girl said. Her hair had fallen out of what was clearly an elaborate up-do and her professional suit was half-undone and quite wrinkled. “Bruce wouldn’t kill us for failing to predict a kidnapping.”

“No, that’s Clark’s job,” the other girl said. Her black eyes skimmed over Diana quickly. “Who’s this?”

“This is Diana Prince,” Dick said. “I’m interviewing her to replace the dumbasses who lost Damian to begin with.”

All of them looked at her, clearly studying her for some fault. Diana didn’t blame them. If she’d been in the position of those guards…

The younger man finally spoke. “Have you run a background check?” he asked.

“I’m counting on Babs to do so,” Dick said. “Please sit,” he said to Diana. “Tim, is there more coffee?”

“Plenty,” Tim said, taking another sip of his own.

Diana sat down, feeling quite wrong-footed and studying Tim closely. Something about him was…strangely familiar, like they’d met before and she’d just forgotten.

He met her eye and his brow furrowed. “Sorry, have we met before?” he asked.

“I…don’t think so,” Diana said. “But…I don’t know.”

He frowned. “I could have sworn I’d seen you before.”

“Maybe,” Diana said.

“Cream or sugar, Diana?” Dick called.

“No,” she said. “Just black.”

Tim grinned. “Least she knows how to drink her coffee,” he said, his voice teasing.

Dick brought over a cup of coffee. “Diana Prince, my siblings…Jason Todd-Wayne, Timothy Drake-Wayne, Cassandra Cain-Wayne and Stephanie Brown-Wayne.”

“Pleasure,” Diana said.

Dick sat down, suddenly all business. “So,” he said. “Here’s the situation…after those clowns lost Damian, I fired all their asses.”

“And rightly so,” Jason said.

“Yes,” Dick said. “Normally, Alfred’s in charge of staffing, with Bruce’s approval, but Bruce isn’t here and I need to replace them right now.”

“I understand,” Diana said.

“You obviously have combat skills,” Dick said. “And Damian seems to…not hate you right away.”

“I do not hate everyone,” Damian objected.

“Sure you don’t,” Cass said.

“What would my duties be?” Diana asked.

“Escort Damian to and from school and anywhere else he wants to go,” Dick said. “Stay nearby all those places, keeping an eye on the entrances and exits as much as possible. Train him in self-defense…hand-to-hand and knives, Bruce doesn’t permit guns in the house. Report any suspicious behavior to one of us. You’d have a room in the manor, right next to him. Ten thousand dollars a week, plus expenses. Saturdays we spend as a family, so that’s your day off.”

Diana blinked. “That…doesn’t sound too bad,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” Dick said.

“I…I would be happy to…to help,” Diana said. “But…I don’t know if you’ll like me.”

“Why don’t we give it a trial run?” Tim asked. “Say, until Bruce and Clark get back? Once they’re back, they can decide to hire her permanently.”

Diana nodded. “That’s fair.”

“Need to get anything?” Dick asked.

“No,” Diana said. “I…I was just thrown out of where I was staying.”

Dick looked her over. “Well, you’re going to need clothes, at least,” he said. “Cell phone…keys…”

“On it,” Steph said, already dialing her phone.

There was a cough from the doorway and they turned to see Alfred. “I will show Ms. Prince to her room,” he said. “And you had all better have this kitchen ready for me to cook dinner when I return.”

There was a collective groan. “Come on, Alfred, Damian got kidnapped today,” Tim whined. “Can’t we have a break?”

Alfred only raised his eyebrows. “If you wish to make your own dinner, be my guest,” he said. “Ms. Prince?”

Diana got up in a daze and followed Alfred up the stairs. He led her to a room in the very back of the hall and opened the door. It was clean, neat, sterile. No personalization, just a full bed with clean white sheets and a bedspread from a hotel, a dresser, a desk. But it was a thousand times better than the tiny room back at Circe’s place, barely enough space for a twin bed and a table.

“Master Damian sleeps next door,” Alfred said. “We have not had live-in security for a long time…but if Master Richard feels it necessary, I am happy to welcome you to the house of Wayne.”

“Thank you,” Diana said. “I would be happy to assist wherever I’m needed.”

Alfred smiled gently. “Don’t concern yourself with anything but Master Damian’s safety. I have a staff who come in every day while the children are away, and they all have chores to do. Master Bruce does not want them to become idle or spoiled.”

“They don’t seem to be either,” Diana said. “They’re really very pleasant.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Alfred said. “I suspect Miss Stephanie will be up soon to discuss shopping with you.” He bowed his head and left the room.

Diana looked around, overwhelmed. This morning, she was just another homeless veteran, and now she was employed and living at Wayne manor.

And all because she had chosen to chase a van across Gotham.

She repressed a smile. The kidnappers hadn’t been very smart, grabbing Damian in a public street and then driving well below the speed limit to avoid detection. And none of them could fight, either. Even when one had fired a gun, Diana had easily evaded his shots to take him down.

She didn’t even know why she’d done it, why she’d put herself at risk, except that something inside her pulled her toward Damian. Something about him was special. It was the same thing she’d felt when she met Tim. She didn’t know what it was, but she felt that in spite of the newness of her situation, she was on her way home.

*

Tim sat up, drinking cup after cup of coffee, his mind racing.

He didn’t know what Diana Prince’s presence had affected him so much. By all accounts, she was pretty amazing, and she had rescued his little brother, but…well, Dick had given her a job on the spot, so now she was just another part of the household staff. Tim could barely keep track of them all to begin with.

So why Diana Prince?

A soft noise made him turn. Damian was creeping into the kitchen, no doubt still hungry after such an exciting day.

“There are sandwiches in the fridge,” Tim said. “As usual.”

“I am aware,” Damian said. “That is not why I am here.” He sat down across from Tim.

Tim sighed and studied Damian. It was still so odd between them—they weren’t friends, but of all Bruce’s children, they were the ones who were actually related. Somewhat distantly, sure, but still.

“What did you want?” Tim asked.

“Prince,” Damian said. “You must have noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“She’s Satari.”

“So?” Tim had noticed that, actually, though it didn’t strike him as odd. “There are plenty of Satari people in Gotham. We have a festival and everything.”

“Diana Prince isn’t a Satari name.”

“Neither is Timothy Drake. She probably changed it when she got here. Or she was born here.”

Damian tsked at him. “You felt it, didn’t you?”

Tim sighed. “Dami…”

“You are the one who always tells me Satari always know their own! Well, I may only be half Satari but I do know—she is one of ours.”

“One of our what?” Tim asked. “Everyone but Ra’s and Talia are dead.”

“She is still one of our people.”

“They all are,” Tim said. “And we’ll look after them, as best as we can.”

Damian looked down. “Is that enough?”

“It will have to be,” Tim said.

Damian nodded and got up. Tim watched him leave, his mind in turmoil. Damian was right—Satari always knew their own.

And whatever he said, he knew Diana wasn’t just an ordinary Satari.

*

Lois sighed in frustration. Days of digging and she hadn’t found out anything about Diana. No other photos of her, no reference to her anywhere in Gotham’s records. She supposed that Diana could be a recent transplant, but it was so odd that nothing had come up at all. It was almost as though someone had erased her records.

She didn’t know why she was digging so much. As far as she knew, Diana was just a housekeeper. No one worth investigating, no one worth spending so much time and effort on.

After all, if she really wanted to know more about Diana, she could just…go back to the Prince house. Ask if she was in. Make up some bullshit story about losing a scarf or something and had Diana found it?

Yes. That was plausible. And once she’d gotten inside, she could ask Diana any other questions she had. Where did Diana come from? Was she just a housekeeper or a relative? How long had she been in the military and which branch had she served with?

Would she maybe like to go out to dinner sometime?

Lois paused as that last one crossed her mind. She’d only met Diana once, and it wasn’t really a meeting so much as passing by her line of sight. Sure, Diana was about the most gorgeous woman in the world, but that didn’t mean that Lois should take her to dinner. Lois Lane was sensible. Lois Lane waited to know a person before thinking about dating them.

Lois Lane did not believe in love at first sight.

Except maybe this time she did, which is how she found herself driving back to the Prince house, if only to catch a glimpse of Diana when she opened the door.

Well, nothing for it. Lois might have been losing her damn mind, but she wouldn’t lose her backbone. She parked the car and walked up to the door, shoulders back, stiff back, like her father taught her, and rang the bell.

To her surprise, Circe Prince herself answered. “Ms. Lane,” she said, a bit coldly. “What brings you here?”

“I, um…” Lois swallowed. “I think I lost my scarf when I was here. And I wondered if Diana might have found it.”

Circe’s eyes flashed. “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “I dismissed Diana from my service. And I have nothing more to say to you.” With that, she slammed the door in Lois’s face.

Lois stood there, shocked. She had no idea what she had done to offend this woman.

And Diana wasn’t there anymore. Lois sighed and trudged back to her car. Gotham had over eight million residents—it would be impossible to find someone who, by all accounts, didn’t even exist.

Lois drove home, her mind racing. Clearly, she was going to have to dig a bit deeper this time.


	3. Chapter 3

Diana felt very out of place as she escorted Damian to school on Monday.

She was wearing a pantsuit that cost more than anything she’d ever owned in her life, well-tailored and light-weight and practical enough, but so, so strange. She carried no gun, which was odd, though she did have several knives hidden on her. She’d put on a pair of glasses that Steph had handed her after realizing Diana was squinting a bit too much—not that Diana noticed, she was used to it.

“We’ll get the proper prescription later,” Steph said in apology. “But I hope these help.”

“Things are a little clearer,” Diana said. “Not much, though.”

“They’re my stepfather’s spare reading glasses,” Steph explained. “I’m glad they work period.”

“Your stepfather?” Diana was surprised—she didn’t follow much news, but last she’d heard Bruce Wayne was unmarried.

“Very recent stepfather,” Steph said. “They’ve been on their honeymoon for the last week.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to thank him for use of his glasses later.”

So now she was in the car next to Damian on the way to Gotham Academy, in a conservative grey suit, wearing a pair of glasses that obscured half her face, and hoping no one looked too closely at her.

Damian did not seem very happy about her. He kept his head bent over his phone, his headphones in and a scowl on his face. Diana tried not to be too bothered by it. It wasn’t like he’d asked her to take this job.

They reached the school. Diana walked Damian up to the front door and made sure he was inside before turning, at a loss what to do.

The chauffer noticed and waved to her. She walked back to the car.

“There’s a coffee shop across the way,” he said. “You have a view of the front door—everything else is alarmed.”

“Is it close enough to get to him?” Diana asked.

“You ran across Gotham yesterday, didn’t you?” he asked. “I think it’ll be fine.”

Diana nodded. “Thank you.” She turned and went to the coffee shop. She ordered the cheapest thing on the menu—apple cider, and sat down. She kept her eye on the door, not blinking or moving. This was the only chance she had. She wasn’t going to blow it.

*

She was very bored all day. Damian was hardly less moody when school let out and Diana escorted him back to the car and to Wayne manor.

Once back inside, Damian looked at her, a bit sour. “We train after school,” he said. “Grayson says that you are to teach me.”

“He did mention that, yes,” Diana said. “Change your clothes and we will begin.”

Damian nodded sourly. They both changed to their workout clothes and went down to the small gym in the basement.

“Let me see what you can do,” Diana said. She took a defensive stance, wondering how easy she’d have to go on such a small child.

Damian attacked, a high kick, higher than she would have expected. She dodged easily and returned with a strike of her own. Damian deflected it and they were sparring in earnest. Diana slowly upped the level, finally getting close to her Army skill before she finally took Damian down.

“Not bad,” she said.

Damian tsked at her. “I have been training in combat since I could walk,” he said.

“So have I,” she snapped back. “Your skills are adequate. However, you lack grace. Precision. Planning.”

“I am able to defend myself.”

“Perhaps.” Diana smirked a bit. “But you treat battle like a chore. How will you win the heart of a fair Satari woman without the grace of a warrior?”

Damian tsked. “I am eleven,” he said. “And fair Satari women never did my father any good.”

Diana laughed. “All right,” she said. “But even so…a love for a fight will make it easier to win one. Come, let’s begin with your agility…”

*

It quickly became routine, comfortable. Diana was still bored most of the time, but she was safe. Secure, an income and a roof over her head, training in the afternoon that she hadn’t gotten to use since her discharge.

Damian was warming to her, or at least, not scowling and tsking as much. They rarely spoke, but their silence was companionable. They sparred in the afternoons, Diana read while Damian did his homework, and otherwise she was left alone.

The other Wayne children were all polite to her, even kind in their way, though they didn’t tend to say much to her, being too busy with their own lives. Diana didn’t mind. It was a relief to be kindly ignored instead of constantly berated.

The only one who seemed to take real interest in her was Tim. The week after she’d been hired, he approached her as Damian was working on his math and she was reading a very long book of Greek history.

“Your name is Diana Prince,” Tim said.

“Yes?” Diana said, confused why Tim was stating the obvious.

“You’re Satari.”

She understood. “Your name is Timothy Drake-Wayne,” she said.

“Mine was changed,” Tim said. “I just…find it interesting.”

“What, that we are Satari with Greek names?” Diana said. “It’s not uncommon among the upper classes.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Are you from an upper class family?”

Diana sighed. “It’s…complicated,” she said. “And honestly, I’m not really sure.”

Damian glanced up. “When did you leave Sataria?” he asked.

Diana set her book aside. Clearly, this was going to be a long conversation. “I was very small,” she said. “Four years? Five? I don’t remember much about it, except that my mother told me we were leaving and packed me off to Gotham.”

“I don’t suppose you remember much about Sataria, either,” Tim said, his voice a bit sad.

“I mean…” Diana closed her eyes. “I think my mother was a servant in a royal household,” she said. “I remember living in a very bright place…I remember a lot of red and gold around us…and there was always someone taking care of me.” It was all so faint, so distant. She hadn’t thought about Sataria in years, not since Circe had taken her in. “I learned to dance…and to sing and to fight, as every good Satari knows.”

“Of course,” Tim said. “I started learning as soon as I could walk.”

“Yes,” Diana agreed. “The moment I was on my feet…” She breathed deep, remembering. “It was…I think I was happy there…I had a mother, and a father, though he was often absent…I remember that bit…and I had a baby brother. But…but then one day, Mother said we had to go. So she brought me here…I don’t know why the rest of our family didn’t come.”

“She did not say?” Damian asked.

“She may have,” Diana said. “But she died when I was eight…then Aunt Circe adopted me. Gave me the name Prince…and she made my life miserable.” She shuddered a bit. “I…I don’t want to speak of that.” She glanced at Tim, hoping he wouldn’t ask many more questions.

Tim was frowning at her, but more in thought than unhappiness.

“What about you?” Diana asked.

“I left Sataria four years ago,” Tim said. “Bruce was good enough to take me in.”

“Your parents…?”

“Dead,” Tim said. “Since I was a baby.”

“So no family?” Diana asked.

“We are second cousins,” Damian explained.

“I see,” Diana said.

Tim blinked and stood up. “I’ll let you get back to your studies.” He turned and hurried out of the room.

*

Lois looked up a Wayne Manor and squared her shoulders. It had taken two weeks to schedule this interview, and she was not going to blow it.

It had taken a lot of negotiating for Stephanie Brown-Wayne to agree to meet with her at all, and given her busy schedule, it was impossible to schedule the interview during business hours. Which was how Lois had ended up saying in desperation that she would meet Brown-Wayne on a Sunday. To her shock, Brown-Wayne had agreed and invited Lois to the manor.

She squared her shoulders and rang the bell. It echoed for a minute before the door opened and Lois’s heart stopped.

Diana was standing there, much better-dressed than when Lois had last seen her, grey suit and glasses and neat hair. Lois had thought Diana was beautiful before, but now she was ready to start a whole new religion centered on her.

Diana looked just as surprised as Lois. “Ms. Lane,” she said. “I…did not expect to see you.”

“I didn’t…um.” Lois was at a loss for words. “It’s Diana, right?” As if she didn’t know. As if she hadn’t spent the last ten days trying to uncover her.

Diana smiled. “Diana Prince,” she said. “I’m sorry we weren’t properly introduced before.”

“Yes,” Lois said. “I, uh…I was pretty rude about that, wasn’t I?” She laughed nervously. “I heard you’d left Circe’s services.”

“It was…not pleasant,” Diana said.

“So…you work here now?”

“As security.” Diana half-smiled. “Which is why I answered the door…Master Jason asked me to ensure you have no weapons before you meet with Miss Stephanie.”

“Oh…oh, of course.” Lois opened her bag and emptied her pockets, showing her voice recorder, notebook, pen, wallet and phone. “That’s all.”

“No camera today?”

“No,” Lois said. “Ms. Brown-Wayne wanted the pictures in her office, so Jimmy will be going over there next week.”

“Of course,” Diana said. “Alfred will show you up.” Diana turned and vanished into the house while an elderly man led Lois upstairs.

Stephanie Brown-Wayne was waiting in a small office. “Ms. Lane,” she said, smiling. She looked barely old enough to drive, let alone run a corporation.

“Ms. Brown-Wayne.”

“Please call me Steph,” she said, shaking Lois’s hand. “Tea?”

“Thank you.”

Steph nodded to Alfred, who bowed and stepped out.

“You seem a bit distracted,” Steph observed as Lois set up her recorder and notebook.

“Oh,” Lois said. “I, um…I wasn’t expecting your security guard.”

“Diana?”

“Yeah,” Lois said. “She’s…something.”

Steph grinned. “She could suplex me through a table and I’d thank her,” she said.

Lois laughed. “Off-the-record, I take it?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“I agree,” Lois said. “But…I’m not here to discuss that.” She smiled and switched on the recorder. “So, Steph…you were given LexCorps as a graduation present. How did you prepare to take on such a major job?”

*

Diana wasn’t waiting for Lois to come back downstairs. Definitely not. Damian just happened to agree when she asked if maybe he’d like to sit in the front parlor where he would get some sunlight while he wrote his essay for school. And if she snagged a tube of lipstick from Barbara’s purse on the way, well, that was just…borrowing. She’d return it.

Damian had noticed, but he only smirked and went back to his work as Diana checked her reflection in the window for the twelfth time. She normally didn’t care what she looked like, but right now…

She glanced up at the sound of voices. Steph and Lois were coming downstairs, in full view of the parlor. They were laughing, but Steph glanced in as they passed.

“How’s the essay, Dami?” she asked.

“The essay is fine…I mean…” Damian glanced at his sister and seemed to realize something. “I could use some help with this bit about…multinational financial restructuring and conversion if you have time?”

“Of course I do,” Steph said. “Diana, could you show Ms. Lane out, please?”

“Yes, Ms. Stephanie.” Diana stood and led Lois back to the front hall.

Lois bit her lip. “Um…I’m sorry about your last job,” she said.

“Don’t be,” Diana said. “I’m much better off here.” She smiled at Lois. “And how is work at the Planet?”

“It’s good,” Lois said. “Investigating…you know.” She glanced at Diana. “Um…so…do you get time off?”

“I have Friday nights and Saturdays off,” Diana said.

“Would you maybe like to have a drink with me?” Lois said in a rush.

Diana blinked. “Oh! Um…I would…I’d like that.” She smiled wider. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Great!” Lois looked like she might faint. “Uh…here.” She pulled a card out of her wallet. “Call me and we’ll work out details…I should go.” She smiled back. “Um…good luck with the Waynes.”

“Thank you,” Diana said. “I look forward to seeing you again.” She got Lois to the door. Lois waved vaguely and hurried back to her car, her face bright red.

Diana closed the door. She stood against it for a moment before she slid down to the floor, smiling in rapture. Maybe it wasn’t a date, but it was the first time she’d been offered a drink since the Army. She started laughing, joy bubbling up in her chest. Lois Lane was gorgeous, dorky, and Diana was happy she was going to get to know more.

*

“It’s not a date,” Diana said for the fifth time.

“Sure it isn’t,” Steph said as she guided Diana through the shop. “You’re just going to a bar with a very attractive and available young woman for funsies.”

Diana sighed. She almost regretted what had transpired after Lois left the manor. Steph and Damian had noticed her dazed expression right away and pressed for details, and the moment Diana let slip that she would be going to have a drink with Lois at the end of the week, both had gone into absolute rapture.

That would have been bad enough, but then Steph had seen fit to call all the other Wayne kids and tell them. Dick and Barbara had been just as excited as Steph, while the other three mostly looked amused.

“Sorry about them,” Tim had said in an undertone. “They’re romantics…any sign of someone falling in love and they’re off.”

“I’m not falling in love,” Diana mumbled back.

No one had believed her, which was how she found herself in a very expensive clothing store after school on Friday, looking for a dress with Steph, Barbara and Cass.

Cass seemed the least happy to be there, rolling her eyes at her sisters’ enthusiasm. “I don’t know why I had to come,” she mumbled as she looked through dresses listlessly.

“Because it’s a girls’ outing,” Barbara answered, skimming through a rack with more enthusiasm. “And you need to leave the house sometimes.”

“I leave the house for school,” Cass snapped.

“Doesn’t count,” Babs said. “Oh! Diana, try this one!” She held out a very short strapless red dress.

Diana took it, feeling a bit unnerved. “It’s awfully small,” she said.

“It’s appropriate for the venue you’re going to,” Barbara said. “Besides, you wanna keep her interested, might as well show some leg.”

Diana blushed. “I’ll try it.” She went into the dressing room and took a breath before shedding her suit and trying the dress on.

It felt…nice. Empowering, even. She turned and looked in the mirror. The dress fitted her well, tight, short, immodest…but it felt so good. She reached up and undid her bun, took off the borrowed glasses and smiled.

The girls were waiting just outside as Diana stepped out of the dressing room. “Well?” she asked.

Steph’s mouth had fallen half-open and Barbara’s eyes were shining. Cass glanced her over a few times. “I like it,” Cass said.

“Definitely going to knock her socks off,” Barbara agreed. “Hang on.” She ran around the store for a few minutes before returning with a necklace with a bird pendant, a pair of thick bracelets, and a headband, along with a pair of lace-up sandals. “Good?” she asked.

“That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” Diana said.

“Accessories are important,” Barbara said. “Trust me.”

“All right,” Diana said. “I’ll be back in a moment to buy it all.” She smiled and retreated back into the dressing room.

As soon as the door closed, Cass looked at Steph. “Stop gawking,” she said.

“Damn,” Steph muttered. “There goes the last of my heterosexuality.”

Her sisters laughed.

*

Lois wasn’t sure what she had been expecting when she arrived at the Seven Dwarves Bar on Friday night, but this wasn’t it.

She hadn’t thought that Diana could look any more beautiful than she did in a suit, but clearly she’d been wrong, because the moment Diana came in, all eyes were on her and Lois was ready to die just so she could thank God or Jesus or…whoever for creating someone as fantastically gorgeous as Diana Prince.

Diana spotted her and walked over, smiling, her red dress staying up purely by magic if Lois was any judge. Lois suddenly felt rather underdressed in her relaxed blouse and skinny jeans, her makeup too neutral compared to the red of Diana’s lips that matched her dress exactly, the foundation paling her tan out a bit.

“Hey,” Lois squeaked as Diana sat down. God, she was so stupid thinking anyone as exquisite as Diana would ever be interested in a reporter who couldn’t even find a comb half the time.

“Hello, Lois,” Diana said.

Lois swallowed. “So, um…how was your week?”

Diana blinked. “Rather dull, to be honest,” she said, blushing a little. “Watching a prep school doesn’t offer much entertainment.”

“Is that all you do?”

“Well, not. Damian and I spar in the afternoons.”

“Hardly a fair fight.”

“He’s a very capable fighter,” Diana said. “He just lacks the panache of a true Satari warrior.”

“He’s…what, eleven?”

“It is never too early to turn battle into a true art.”

Lois giggled. “That’s a soldier’s statement.”

“I was a soldier,” Diana said, her voice a bit sad.

“I mean…I figured,” Lois said. “You walk like one.”

The waitress came over to take their drink orders. Diana asked for a rather fancy apple cocktail. Lois felt even more like a chump when she asked for beer.

“It’s that obvious?” Diana asked when the waitress was gone.

“My father was an Army man,” Lois said.

“I see,” Diana said. “I was in the Army, yes.”

“How long?”

“Two and a half years. I wanted to stay longer…make a career of it…but…”

Lois’s eyes were sympathetic. “But?”

Diana was spared answering by the arrival of the drinks. She sipped at the cocktail for a moment before she spoke again. “I was in Iraq,” she said. “Women don’t usually serve in the field, of course, but we were starting to integrate. I was with a small platoon…me and four of the men. We were sent to do a reconnaissance mission against a terrorist cell…and we got caught. Three of the men made it back unharmed…but I was shot in the ribs and…”

“The fourth?”

Diana swallowed. “Steve,” she said. “Steve Trevor. He was…he was a good man. Brave, clever…handsome.”

“A lover?”

“No, of course not…but might have been once we were discharged. He’s the reason we all survived. He stayed behind to keep them occupied…told us to blow it up. And…he was our superior officer…so the men obeyed. Grenade, then fire, then…no more terrorists…no more Steve…no more military career for me.”

Lois hesitated, then reached across and took Diana’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

Diana smiled sadly and squeezed Lois’s hand. “I suppose…well, my mother always said things happen for a reason. Maybe…there’s a reason for this.”

“Maybe this is the reason,” Lois said.

Diana looked up into her eyes and Lois’s breath caught. Diana smiled and stood. “Dance with me?” she said, holding out her hands.

Lois slid off her chair and took them, letting Diana lead her onto the floor. The music was fast and loud and they were soon lost in it, twirling and giggling, moving to the beat with enthusiasm if not skill. Diana was graceful out here, her dress somehow never showing anything. Lois was both relieved and slightly disappointed.

They stayed on the floor for several songs, keeping close together to make clear they weren’t available to anyone else. Several men glanced their way, but Lois decided to ignore them. She was with Diana, close to her, their hands meeting. Diana’s hands were hard and strong, roughened from work but so warm. Lois was conscious of her lily-white office hands, so fragile compared to Diana’s.

At some point, though, their hands parted. Diana raised her hands to Lois’s hair and smoothed it down, her forearms on Lois’s shoulders, and Lois felt like she would faint right then.

“So,” Diana said as the music slowed down and they went into a slow dance. Lois somehow got her arms around Diana’s waist, staring up at her in worship. “You’re a journalist…you must have interesting stories.”

Lois blinked. “Oh…some,” she said. “None too exciting…I’ve only been at it four years. Best story I wrote was about one of the recent protests.”

“The one against greenhouse emissions from companies like LexCorps?”

“That’s the one…it got a lot of attention, though the former CEO accused me of bias.”

“I imagine he did.”

Lois smiled. “I was so happy when he resigned…I only wish I knew the reason. But I think Stephanie will do much better.”

“You are biased.”

“Just a little. She has a good head on her shoulders.”

“They all do,” Diana said.

Lois couldn’t help smirk. “So could I use our connection for nefarious purposes?”

Diana grinned back. “If they like you, you don’t need me,” she said. “And what connection do you think we have?”

Lois batted her eyelashes a little. “The type that lets me take you home tonight?”

Diana was quiet for a moment before she leaned down and kissed Lois.

Lois squeaked a bit before she kissed back, pressing closer to Diana, and she was so warm, so strong, and those breasts were just as firm and ample as Lois had guessed.

After a few glorious minutes, Diana pulled back. “Your place, I assume…I don’t think the Waynes would appreciate our less discrete activities happening right next to Damian’s room.”

“Naturally,” Lois said. “And don’t worry…I can be discrete.”

*

Diana’s head was spinning.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the dancing, or even just the freedom to dress up and have a night off. But she was dizzy and joyful and very quickly falling in love with Lois Lane.

Of course, the fact that Lois Lane was currently wrapped around her didn’t help.

The moment they had gotten back to Lois’s studio apartment, Diana had kissed Lois again, deeper than before. This time, Lois wrapped her arms around Diana’s neck and they wouldn’t part, not for one moment. Finally, Diana lifted Lois up to get a better angle. Lois took the hint straight away and wound her legs over Diana’s hips, gripping her bare neck and shoulders desperately.

Diana carried Lois to the bed, dropping her before being dragged down herself. Neither spoke as they fumbled with buttons and zips and clasps and Diana missed her days in the Army. As hideous as camo was, it was easy to get off.

But her dress hit the floor, Lois’s blouse and jeans following, their bras coming off with a few quick flicks of the wrists and they were pressed together, kissing and touching and Diana was drowning in it, in this beautiful woman underneath her, their legs tangled and their hair getting in their way and she just wanted to stay here forever.

Hands moved between legs, both touching and gasping with pleasure. Lips and teeth at necks and breasts and it was so much, so fast…

She fell and Lois fell with her.

*

Diana woke fairly early the next morning. She smiled at Lois, still asleep on her chest. God, she was perfect. Everything about last night was, but especially Lois.

Lois stirred. “Morning,” she murmured.

“Morning.”

“Time is it?”

“Nearly eleven.”

“Mm.” Lois tightened her grip on Diana’s waist. “You need to be back any time soon?”

“My day off,” Diana said. “But I shouldn’t dally too much.”

“I can buy you breakfast…well, brunch.”

Diana smiled softly. “I’d have to go back to the manor first,” she said. “I can’t go out in last night’s dress…and I doubt anything you have would fit me.”

“What I get for bringing home an Amazon.”

Diana kissed her forehead. “Come on,” she said. “Get up and we can be quick.”

Lois grumbled a little before she let go and let Diana out of bed. They dressed quickly before heading back to the manor.

Diana rather hoped she wouldn’t encounter any of the Waynes on her way up to her room; she doubted they’d be put out by her walk of shame, but they were still her employers. However, the moment they stepped onto the walk up to the manor, she knew she’d have no such luck. Loud Satari music was playing on the lawn, where all seven had gathered. Diana smiled in recognition as she saw Tim and Steph in the middle of the semi-circle, swords in hand, feet moving in rhythm.

“What are they doing?” Lois asked in quiet consternation.

“Si’la roj,” Diana said. “A Satari battle dance.”

“A dance or a fight?”

“Both.” As they watched, Tim knocked Steph back. She caught herself on one hand, but the others were already shouting. Steph got up with a grin and Cass called out a challenge, leaping in to take her sister’s place.

“There are three rules,” Diana explained as Cass and Tim went back into the dance. “No bloodshed, you must keep moving, and if any part of you but your feet touches the ground, you lose. Half-dance, half-battle.”

The swords clashes as Tim twirled Cass around him. Both were graceful and skilled; it was obvious they had done this many times before.

“It’s a test of endurance as much as skill,” Diana continued. “I would imagine Tim’s fought or will fight all six of the others without flagging.”

Steph spotted them and waved. “Diana! Lois!”

Diana grimaced and walked over, aware of how wrinkled her dress was. No one seemed to mind, too intent watching the dancers.

“You do this often?” Diana asked.

“Sometimes,” Steph said. “Tim misses home sometimes and this is a way to connect back to Sataria since none of us like relik.”

“He’s very skilled,” Diana observed, watching as Cass finally tripped and fell.

“I would hope so,” Steph said. “He is…was one of the royal house.”

Diana raised her eyebrows. Lois only looked confused. “What’s that got to do with dancing?” she asked as Damian leapt into the fray.

“Legend says that the true rulers of Sataria cannot be beaten in si’la roj,” Diana said, watching as Tim and Damian began the dance, more intently than Cass had been. “Often for celebrations, the King will have to dance against the entire court to prove his worth…silly superstition, of course.”

“It’s really more that they train for it more than anyone else to keep up the illusion,” Steph said.

The battle going on was more vicious than celebratory. Diana wasn’t too surprised—if Tim was a part of the royal house, that meant Damian was as well. No doubt they were trying to prove which of them would rule Sataria one day or something.

It took almost five minutes before Tim managed to push Damian back. Both boys were quick and graceful, Damian’s training with Diana clearly paying off. She smiled in slight pride.

“Here,” Steph said, handing Diana her sword. “One more challenger.”

Diana blinked as she took it. “I’m not really dressed for a si’la roj.”

“We don’t mind,” Steph said. “We’ll be watching your swords, not your skirt.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lois said.

“Why not?” Diana sighed. Tim’s back was to her, so she called out, “Si’la!”

Tim whirled around in surprised before he smiled. “Roj et ni!”

Diana rushed forward and the dance began, spinning, leaping, swords clashing, hands meeting. Tim seemed to know her every move instinctively—and, Diana realized, she knew him just as well. Without words, without relaying anything, they met and parted and fought and danced and it was more natural and exhilarating than anything Diana had ever done before.

Lois watched in wonder. The rest of the Waynes, who had been shouting invectives and encouragements, all fell silent, all watching as Diana and Tim moved like one person instead of two.

“Damn,” Steph said. “I thought watching Dick and Barbara dance was amazing, but these two…”

Lois nodded, dazed. “I am both terrified and aroused,” she muttered.

“Right there with you,” Steph said.

The music was ending, finally. Diana and Tim swung their swords up, facing each other. Their hands met for a bare second before Diana grinned and flipped Tim onto his back on the last beat.

There was silence for a moment as Diana and Tim stared at each other, both panting, both shocked.

“Who are you?” Tim whispered.

Diana stared in shock. “I…I don’t know,” she said. “I’m…”

Tim stood up, looking at her in curiosity. She was looking at him the same way, their dark eyes boring into each other for a long time before Diana turned and hurried away, her face hot.

Tim stared after her for a long minute before he turned to Lois. “What do you know about her?” he demanded.

“Not much,” Lois said. “She was in the Army…”

“Start there,” Tim said. “I want to know who she is…where she came from. Anything about her at all.”

“Drake,” Damian said. “You cannot think it is something sinister just because she beat you.”

“Yeah,” Dick added. “I mean…you can’t be a sore loser…”

“I’m not,” Tim said. “This isn’t because she beat me.”

“What is it, then?” Jason asked.

“Her eyes,” Tim said. “Her hands…everything about her is familiar and I need to know…”

Lois nodded. “I’ll tell you everything I can,” she said, and hurried after Diana.

Cass was at Tim’s side in an instant. “Tim…”

“It’s possible, Cass,” he said. “I never had proof, but…”

“Would one of you mind filling the rest of us in?” Babs asked.

“Inside,” Dick added. “I’ll make the coffee.”

*

Lois wasn’t sure where Diana had gone when she got into the house. Fortunately, the elderly butler met her in the hall and pointed her in the right direction.

Lois went to the door and knocked. “Diana?”

“Come in.”

Lois slipped into the room. Diana was out of her dress and buttoning a suit blouse. Her eyes were slightly red, like she’d been crying. “What’s wrong?” Lois asked.

“I shouldn’t have been able to beat him,” Diana said.

“What, because of some silly legend?” Lois asked. “From what I recall of the papers, neither of you has lived in Sataria for years…of course you’ve both gotten a bit rusty…”

“But we haven’t,” Diana said. “Lois…I haven’t danced a si’la roj in over a decade.”

Lois blinked. “Well…you’re naturally talented?”

“It’s…I don’t know,” Diana said. “All my life, I’ve just been another Satari orphan…a refugee of some sort, probably…and now I’ve beaten a prince in si’la roj?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Lois said. “Only that you’re a good fighter and dancer…both of which I already knew.”

“But…it felt different,” Diana said. “And…there was a moment where I looked at him…and…it was like I was home.”

“He’s what, eighteen?”

“Not that sort of home,” Diana said. “But…” She paused, thinking. “Eighteen…I wonder…”

Lois hesitated. “He…he asked me to find out who you are.”

Diana huffed out a laugh. “If you find out, I hope you’ll tell me.”


	4. Chapter 4

Circe picked up the phone as it rang. “Yes?”

“Ah, Ms. Prince.”

She froze. She hadn’t heard that voice in years. “Your Majesty…what can I do for you?”

“I’m calling about Diana.”

“I…” Circe felt her blood run cold. “Diana has been dismissed from my service.”

“I am aware.” His voice was deadly. “I’ve been keeping an eye on everything…and do you know where she is now?”

“Dead on the street, I’d imagine.”

“No.” She knew, right then, she was in trouble. “She is in the house of Wayne…she’s been hired as part of the staff.”

“Well…what is it to me?”

An impatient noise. “You fool,” he hissed. “She is with Timothy…and he’s an intelligent boy. It won’t take long for them to realize…and then it will all be ruined.”

“They can’t possibly challenge you…”

“You don’t know that.” There was silence for a minute. “Get rid of her. It might not be too late to keep her from learning the truth…and even if she has, Timothy alone means nothing.”

“Yes, Your Majesty…how?”

“I don’t care how! Just do it!”

The call disconnected and Circe stood still for a minute before sitting down and thinking very, very hard.

*

Diana didn’t notice anything strange when she got Damian up for school on Monday. They simply got ready and left the house as usual. Damian was still looking at Diana curiously, but after the weekend, Diana didn’t blame him.

The day was spent in the café, as usual. Diana watched the school, unmoving, though her mind was working very hard. Tim had once been a prince of Sataria? What had happened? How had he ended up in Gotham as a ward of Bruce Wayne?

Why did she still feel a pull toward him, a pull she couldn’t ignore, like they’d always known each other and just forgot?

And what about Lois? Diana had had a wonderful evening and morning with her. Would they keep seeing each other? Or was Lois just looking for some fun? Diana hoped not—she liked Lois too much to ever keep it to a one-night stand.

All of that was on her mind when her cell phone rang. She picked it up immediately. “Diana Prince.”

“Prince,” Damian said, sounding rather put out. “I just received a call informing me that Grayson is in hospital and we are to go to him immediately.”

Diana jumped up. “Yes, of course,” she said. “I’ll be there right away.” She hung up and hurried across to the school.

She met Damian in the front hall, signed him out, and took him down to the private garage. The chauffer was already in the car, engine started. Diana and Damian climbed in the back and turned.

“Are we going or not?” Damian demanded after a minute.

“The attendant stepped out,” the driver said. “She said she’d only be a few minutes.”

“I’m sure Master Dick will be fine,” Diana said gently. “A few minutes won’t make much difference.”

They sat there in silence for quite a while, only their deep breaths making any noise. At least the heat was already on. It was cold enough in the garage…

Diana turned suddenly. She realized suddenly that her breath was growing shallow and Damian’s was the same. “Damian?”

He looked at her, a crease in his brow. “I…I think something is wrong with the exhaust…” he said.

Diana turned and tried to open her door. It didn’t budge, the catch caught on something. “Damian!”

He tried his door and it was the same. Diana was growing light-headed, spots forming in front of her vision as she reached for him. “Dami…” She felt her eyes grow heavy as everything went black.

Just before she slipped into unconsciousness, she heard the shattering of glass. A minute later, small hands were pulling her up and to the ground outside.

She gasped at the relatively clear air. She heard more noise as she started coughing, choking slightly.

“Prince.” Damian’s hand was on her forehead. “Prince, wake up. Now.”

Her eyes fluttered as she looked at him. “What happened?” she asked.

“I am not sure,” Damian said. The driver was stirring next to them. “We were all choking…I used my book bag to break the window. The doors are fine outside…we just could not get out…”

Diana frowned. “That’s…not an accident,” she said.

“No,” Damian said. “I do not believe it is.”

Diana got shakily to her feet. “Come on,” she said. “We’re still going home…after I call Dick and verify this story.”

*

 Dick’s fury was enough to take the wallpaper off the manor kitchen.

“I WANT THIS INVESTIGATED RIGHT FUCKING NOW, YOU UNDERSTAND?!” he shouted into the phone. Diana instinctively shrank behind Damian, even though she knew Dick wasn’t angry at her. “I DON’T CARE IF IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN AN ACCIDENT, SOMEONE TRIED TO KILL MY LITTLE BROTHER AND I WANT TO KNOW WHO!”

He hit the end call button hard and threw the phone on the table. He turned and saw Diana shaking. “Oh…oh, God, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I should’ve realized…”

“It’s fine,” Diana said. “I understand…I should have been watching more carefully…”

“No, no,” Dick said. “This isn’t your fault…you couldn’t have predicted someone fucking with the car…you’re trained to take down direct threats.” He went over but stopped. “…I suppose it’s inappropriate for me to hug you.”

“I…no, that’s…”

Before Diana could finish, Damian turned around and gave her a quick hug. “Am I dismissed?” he asked Dick after he let go.

“Yeah…yeah, you can go, Dami.”

Damian nodded and left the room. Diana hesitated before she spoke. “Who would do this to him?”

Dick frowned. “What makes you think he was the target?”

“Who else would it be?” Diana asked. “The driver might have enemies, but…I’m just a nobody. Damian’s the only one of any importance.”

“You aren’t nobody,” Dick said. “Tim thinks you’re…well, he has no proof of anything, but I believe him. As to Damian…killing him won’t achieve much of anything.”

“But…he and Tim are cousins and Tim was a prince…”

“Key word was,” Dick said. “And Damian is the result of a left-hand marriage…he was never in the line of succession. At least, that’s how I understand the situation. Damian’s never even been to Sataria or met his grandfather…there’s no money to be made killing him and he’s not important politically.”

“But then why…”

“You don’t have any enemies?”

“Not that I’m aware of…well, unless Aunt Circe counts.”

Dick sat down and gestured for Diana to do the same. “Tell me about her…everything, no matter how small.”

Diana was quiet for a moment. “My mother died when I was eight,” she said. “Drive-by shooting…not uncommon in the area we lived. Satari are warriors and having so many of us crammed together in one district…well, it was a lot. I was left alone…until social services located an aunt…Circe Prince. She agreed to take me. I thought my life with her would be easier…she was rich, high-class…she wasn’t Satari, so she had a step up in the world.”

“So your family isn’t all from Sataria?”

“No,” Diana said. “My mother was Greek…when we came, she settled with the Satari refugees because she didn’t want me to be separated from my culture.”

“Bruce is the same way with Damian,” Dick said.

Diana nodded. “It’s a beautiful culture…but…anyway…Circe took me in…and she was horrible to me. She said that it was kindness that gave me food and shelter, and that I would have to work to pay her back. She turned me into her servant…she never laid a hand on me, but…I was neglected…belittled…nothing was ever good enough for her…”

Diana’s hands were shaking. Dick reached over and took them. After a moment, Diana nodded and continued.

“It went on like that until I was seventeen…I did go to the public school…underfunded, overcrowded, but it was a few hours away from her. The Army came recruiting…promising job skills and college funding and everything else they use to lure the poor kids in…and I signed up immediately. I’ve always been in fairly good shape…they were happy to take me. As soon as I turned eighteen, I dropped out of school and went off to basic.”

“I take it Circe didn’t like that?”

“She wasn’t happy,” Diana admitted. “But I was an adult…she couldn’t stop me. I thought…I would make a career of being a soldier…never come back to Gotham…but…well, one bad mission and I was discharged…unfit to serve…and with nowhere to go but back to her. So I did…and it was worse than before. Since I was grown…she didn’t pay me, but she got angry with me for freeloading…threatened to kick me out almost every day…until she finally did. You know the rest.”

“But would she want you dead?” Dick asked.

“I don’t think so,” Diana said. “I mean…I don’t want any charges pressed or…or anything. I’m just happy she’s out of my life.”

Dick frowned in thought. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t know if she’s involved, but I’ll have my people look into it. I do have a few other ideas…do you know Lex Luthor by sight?”

“I’ve seen his face in magazines.”

“Keep an eye out for him; this might have been a revenge attempt…long story,” he added at Diana’s confused look. “I really doubt that was it…not really his style. But I don’t have anything else.”

Diana nodded. “Thank you.” She stood, then paused. “When you say was…what does that mean? What happened to Tim?”

Dick looked at her for a long moment. “You should probably ask him,” he said. “It’s…a lot of it is personal to him.”

“I’m sorry if I was too forward.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Dick said. “Just…keep an eye on Damian. And if you come up with anything else, tell me.”

Diana nodded and left the room.

*

Lois was completely shocked that Friday as Diana told her about the entire incident over dinner.

“But…that’s horrible!” she said. “Even if someone was trying to target you, they could have done something that wouldn’t put Damian in danger! Or if he was the target…” She shuddered. “Who would want to kill a little boy?”

“I don’t know,” Diana said. “I was hoping you could tell me…or has your investigation come up dry?”

Lois sighed. “Would help if I knew what I was looking for,” she said. “It’s easy enough to trace you back to immigration…but anything before that is completely dry. As far as I can find, no Diana Prince ever existed in Sataria.”

“I don’t think Prince was my last name there,” Diana said. “But I was only four…I don’t know what it was.”

“What was your mother’s name?” Lois asked. “Even a first name could help.”

“It should help, she was Greek,” Diana said. “Her name was Antiope.”

“It’s a start,” Lois said. “I’ll see what I can come up with...until then, you be careful. If someone is trying to hurt Damian, they’re going to have to hurt you first.”

Diana sighed. “I feel so guilty,” she said. “I’m supposed to protect him, but in the end, he had to save all of us himself. I’m surprised Master Dick didn’t fire me.”

“It was a mistake,” Lois said. “Everyone makes them…you’re all fine.”

“But Damian could have…”

“You all could have died. But you didn’t…had it worked, no one would have known it was murder at all. It would have been put down as an accident. No one blames you.”

“Right,” Diana said. “You’re right.” She hesitated. “What about Tim? Do you know anything about him?”

“A fair amount,” Lois said. “I did go down to the Satari neighborhood when I was making inquiries…they love him down there, their ‘rightful prince.’”

“So it is true.”

“Yes, of course. I didn’t get all the details, but he’s the grand-nephew of the King…exiled for treason, though the refugees regard him as a hero…and the sentiments seem to be shared back in Sataria.”

“Treason? But he’s only eighteen!”

“Mm,” Lois said. “And he was fourteen when he left…he’s had an interesting life.”

Diana shook her head. “So young…and why is he so interested in learning about me?”

“I’m not sure,” Lois said. “I’ve got a few more people to interview tomorrow…and until then, you’d better talk to him yourself.”

*

Something pulled at Diana for the next week. She didn’t speak to Tim, unsure of what she would even say. She’d heard enough to know he was a good man, but something bothered her about the whole affair.

Which was how the next Saturday, she found herself wandering into the Satari district on her own. She hadn’t been down there since she was eight, but now that she was so close to other Satari, now that she was learning more about her country…

Well, it seemed like a good idea.

It was poor, and loud and crowded, the refugees all in the market, some tourists scattered among them. Diana wasn’t sure where she fell—somewhere in between, she supposed. She almost felt at home, but not quite. Then again, were any of them really home?

She wandered among the stalls, listening to the Satari language, hearing the merchants and customers argue and haggle. She passed a circle where music played, two boys practicing si’la roj with sticks, both clumsy but enthusiastic as the crowd shouted them on. She inhaled the warm food, the bitter spices they used that Americans always seemed to detest.

She stopped in a crowded pub for lunch, listening to the shouting and the warmth and oh, how she’d missed it. She hadn’t even realized how much until she sat down with her bowl of relik stew, fish and dates and soybeans that no Westerner ever liked and Aunt Circe absolutely detested.

As she ate, an older woman sat down across from her with a smile. “Et’na dami,” she said.

“Et’na dami,” Diana greeted in return, the words heavy in her mouth. “Forgive my accent.”

The old woman smiled. “Away from home long?”

“Too long,” Diana said. “Almost twenty years.”

“So young,” the old woman said. “The first revolution…you must be one of the…how you say…palace dwellers?”

“I think so,” Diana said. “But I have no proof or memory.”

The old woman chuckled. “Ah, another Princess Diyanah.”

Diana’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Don’t you know?” the old woman asked. “You hear not the tales?”

“No,” Diana said. “I was raised mostly by Westerners.”

“Well,” the old woman said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “When the first revolution happened, half the royal family died. The King survived by cunning, and his daughter was here in America…but his nephew, the nephew’s wife and daughter were all supposedly killed by the revolutionaries before it was put down.”

“Supposedly?” Diana asked.

“Many believe that Ra’s al-Ghul had them murdered himself,” the old woman said. “The young Prince Yurem was left alive…why would the revolutionaries leave an heir in place?”

“I see,” Diana said. “But why did you call me Princess Diyanah?”

“Some say she was smuggled out of Sataria before the murder,” the old woman said. “That she is alive and will rise…our own personal Anastasia, if you will.”

“I see,” Diana said. “But…”

“It is a joke among us,” the old woman explained. “When young ladies say they left Sataria at that time. Who knows? Any of them could be her…but it is unlikely.”

“Yes,” Diana said. “Unlikely.” She finished her stew, deep in thought. “Prince Yurem,” she said. “That would be Timothy Drake-Wayne now, yes?”

“That is the name he goes by,” the old woman said. “At least, until he can return and reclaim his country. And we will all stand with him when he does.”

“If he does.”

“He will,” the old woman said. “He will not abandon his people to Ra’s al-Ghul’s rule forever. He will fight for us…give us a country we deserve to return to.”

Diana smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “I admire him greatly.” She hesitated, then slipped ten dollars across to the woman. “For your story.”

The old woman smiled back and accepted. “You should go down the street,” she said. “A new cosmetic shop just opened…you are pretty, but they may advise for when you want a husband, no?”

Diana laughed. “I’ll look for it,” she promised, and left the pub.

*

The cosmetic shop was new, almost out of place in how modern it was. Still, Diana always liked supporting the locals, so she went in.

The woman behind the counter smiled. “Welcome,” she said, her eyes sharp. Diana felt like she’d seen her somewhere before, but couldn’t quite place her. “What suits you?”

“Just browsing,” Diana said. “Someone recommend I come in.” She went over to the wall and started looking at the products.

“You want sample?” the lady asked. “To match color?”

Diana turned. “All right,” she said, and walked over.

The lady produced a number of shades of foundation. She looked them over, then studied Diana. “Pale for Satari girl,” she said.

“A bit,” Diana agreed.

“Try this.” The lady handed one of the pots over, along with a sponge.

Diana took it and tested it on her cheek in front of the mirror. It seemed a good shade.

“More,” the lady said. “You must blend…see if works well before purchase.”

Diana hesitated, then continued to put it one. She was starting to feel a bit dizzy. Disoriented. She blinked and the jar slipped from her hand and fell with a shatter as she fainted.

*

“Deliberate murder attempt?” Tim repeated. “But…why?”

“I don’t know,” Dick said. “But the amount of mercury in the makeup was enough to kill an ox…she didn’t use enough for it to be fatal, but she’ll be out for a week or so.”

Tim shook his head. “Has the shopkeeper been arrested?”

“Of course,” Dick said. “But she said that she was just doing as she was ordered and refused to give the name of her employer.”

“I have to be right,” Tim said. “She has to be Diyanah…why else would someone want to kill her?”

“Tim,” Dick said. “Let’s say you’re right…the rumors are true, Diyanah’s alive, Ra’s al-Ghul lied to you for seventeen years…”

“We know that part’s true.

“Yes, yes, but…even if Diyanah did survive…you can’t prove Diana was her. There’s absolutely no evidence that she’s your sister…”

“Except for two assassination attempts in a week,” Tim said. “You can’t tell me there’s no reason for it.”

“There could be a dozen reasons,” Dick said. “The first time, we thought they were after Damian…well, they still could be and decided to get the body guard out of the way to get a better shot at him. Or it could be that her aunt holds a grudge and wants her dead out of jealousy. Or maybe Ra’s al-Ghul wants her dead for reasons completely unrelated to your family.”

“But…”

“Tim,” Dick said, his voice firm. “Has it occurred to you that you might be projecting? That you want so badly for your sister to still be alive that you decided to turn Diana into her, even though she isn’t?”

Tim blinked and looked away. “Of course that occurred to me,” he said. “Of course I know, intellectually, that my sister has been dead since I was a baby. Of course I know that the chances of Diana being Diyanah are very small. But…you didn’t feel it, when we danced. Something about her…it’s familiar. She’s familiar…I feel like I know her better than I know any of you.” He looked at Dick, his eyes full of tears. “Your family died, too…they were killed and you didn’t understand why…if you met a stranger who felt like them…wouldn’t you hope? Wouldn’t you cling to the barest possibility that one of them survived? That you aren’t completely alone in the world?”

Dick went over and pulled Tim into a tight hug. “We aren’t alone, Tim,” he said. “Even if…even if Diyanah really is dead…you have a family here. And if you are right…if that small chance is reality…we’ll welcome her, like we always have.”

*

Diana was happy to be out of the hospital, even if it meant looking over her shoulder every few seconds. Someone had tried to kill her. Her, not Damian, not an accident. Someone had tried to murder her, and she didn’t know why.

Except…

Tim was the one to pick her up, his face pale and eyes heavy. He kept stealing glances at her as they drove back to Wayne Manor. Finally, Diana couldn’t stand it any longer.

“You think I’m her,” she said. “You think I’m the lost princess.”

Tim slumped. “I don’t know what to think,” he said. “I don’t know if it’s true. But it’s possible. And…obviously, someone else thinks it’s true if they keep pulling this crap.”

Diana was quiet for a minute. “I don’t know what to think, either,” she said. “I mean…it just seems so silly to think I could be a princess…that I still have a family…”

“You have one either way,” Tim said. “Diana…I don’t know if you’re the princess. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to prove it either way. But…well, you’re the closest thing I have right now.”

“You have your siblings…Mr. Wayne…”

“It’s not…” Tim sighed in frustration. “All my life, I believed my sister was dead. It wasn’t…it didn’t seem to hurt at first, because I was only a year old when it happened. I have no real memory of her or our parents. But…when I was thirteen, I found out that my grand-uncle was the one who had them killed. I learned that they died for politics. And…and that made it more real to me. Made me wish I could have known them. Even when I got here, even with my new family…part of me still missed having my sister…my Diyanah. So…if it’s okay with you…I’d like to keep thinking of you as family.”

Diana blinked back tears and looked away. “I don’t know if I can be the sister you want,” she said. “But…” She reached over and took Tim’s hand. “I’d like to have a brother.”

They didn’t say any more, their hands and tears doing all the talking for them.


	5. Chapter 5

Lois sipped her coffee with a sigh. Thousands and thousands of pages of records, and she was still stuck. It didn’t help that half of them were kept in Satarian, which meant she’d spent more time with a dictionary than the actual research.

She was well-aware that the palace records were hardly public property, but Tim had told her to do whatever it took and, well, hacking palace records was good practice. Lois knew that Tim or Barbara could do it much faster—both were notorious for their computer skills—but Lois was just as capable.

She pulled up the next page and paused. There was the name—Antiope. Not Prince, Themyscura. It had to be the same Antiope who had raised Diana, there had been no other. Lois opened the file and started reading, smiling as she did so.

Maybe it wasn’t proof—she doubted there would ever be anything definitive, almost everyone from that time was either dead or in exile—but it was enough for a real theory. Enough proof to get them to agree to a DNA test, anyway.

She quickly copied all the information to a flashdrive before wiping the computer. She didn’t know why Ra’s al-Ghul was content for Diyanah to be officially dead, but she didn’t need him to discover someone digging.

*

Diana was very surprised when, on the Tuesday after she returned to working, Tim and Lois came into the coffee shop. Lois looked smug, and Tim looked extremely hopeful as they sat down across from her.

“I can’t exactly keep an eye on things with you two blocking my way,” Diana said.

“Relax,” Tim said. “I arranged for some of the Wayne Enterprises guys to watch from the roof for a bit. This is too important.”

Diana’s breath caught. “You mean…”

Tim half-smiled and waved for the waitress. Diana ordered her second cider, but was watching Tim and Lois.

“I found something solid,” Lois said. “It’s not…evidence, exactly, but it’s enough to be hopeful.” She pulled a tablet out of her bag and pulled something up before handing it to Diana.

Diana skimmed over it. Antiope Themyscura, personal body guard of Princess Hippolyta. The surveillance notes (and Diana did not want to know how Lois had gotten them) stated that the two were inseparable and that Antiope was the princess’s closest confidante, entrusted with the care and protection of Princess Diyanah from the moment of her birth, that Princess Hippolyta would sooner sacrifice her own safety than allow harm to come to her daughter.

“Read the next page,” Tim said when Diana looked up.

She flicked the tablet to the next page. Surveillance notes on the night Princess Hippolyta was killed. They were vague, no doubt on purpose, but there was an interesting note.

_While the revolutionaries were successful in disposing of most of the family except for the infant prince, Princess Diyanah’s body has not been accounted for. The guard Antiope is also missing; she was nowhere near Princess Hippolyta, and it is believed she smuggled the little princess out of the castle. The search outside the palace will continue._

Diana’s breath caught. It wasn’t proof, wasn’t anything close, but it was enough. She looked at Tim, tears in her eyes.

“I think…”

He nodded. “DNA test,” he said. “Only way to really be sure…I should have gotten it earlier, but…well, I didn’t have enough reason to hope.”

Diana reached across the table and took Lois’s hand. “Thank you,” she said. “I…this means so much to me…to us.”

Lois grinned. “Let alone it’ll make a great story for the Planet,” she teased. “I mean, yeah, half of Gotham couldn’t point to Sataria on a map with a gun to their heads, but lost princesses? Deceptive kings? Families reunited? People live for that shit.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “You’re not publishing anything until we have proof,” he said. “And even when we have that, we’re going to have to have a long conversation about what to do with it. I can’t exactly call Ra’s al-Ghul out for faking Diyanah’s death until I know why he did it.”

Lois pretended to pout. Diana couldn’t help but laugh as the waitress came back with their drinks.

They took the paper cups with a murmur of thanks.

“Well,” Lois said. “Here’s to Princess Diyanah, whoever she may be.”

“And here’s to Antiope Themyscura,” Diana said. “Who saved her.”

They laughed and raised their cups. Diana drank the apple cider, sweet, sour, spiced…

And then she was choking, unable to breathe. Her vision was going black as she fell…

“DIANA!”

Her last thought as she went under was “oh no, not again.”

*

Lois was over the table in a second, sending the tablet to the ground as she caught Diana. She was going cold fast, not breathing.

She heard Tim cry out in pain as she lowered Diana to the ground and pressed her mouth open. Two rescue breaths, then chest compressions.

_One, two, three, four…_

She could hear people shouting and she hoped someone was calling 911.

_Five, six, seven, eight..._

Three times. Three times in three weeks. Who wanted Diana dead this badly? And why? Did they want to prevent her from learning the truth?

_Nine, ten, eleven, twelve…_

And Tim…what must he be thinking, finding a sister only to have her drop dead on the ground? Learning his family could still be alive only to lose her again? Lois couldn’t entertain it too long. She had to focus.

_Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen._

Two more rescue breaths and Lois could hear the ambulance coming. Thank God. She kept going with the compressions, hoping…praying…

The paramedics took over. Lois stood and went back to Tim, who was shaking violently.

“Tim?”

He looked up, his face twisted in grief. “I can’t…I’m not losing her again…not when I just found her.”

They watched as Diana was taken to the ambulance. “Go with her,” Lois said.

“But…you’re definitely her girlfriend…I might not be her brother at all.”

“They can find out at the hospital,” Lois said. “Besides…I’ve got an interview to get to.”

Tim blinked. “How can you think about interviews at a time like this?!”

Lois picked up the shattered tablet. “It’s the most important interview,” she said. “It’s the one that will give you answers.” She pushed him. “Go…I’ll call later.”

*

Circe returned home in triumph. There was no possible way Diana would survive this one. That much strychnine would kill anyone. So easy to slip into a cup of cider while the barista was distracted. If Diana lived through this one, there was no hope of getting rid of her at all.

Good thing, too. From what Circe had heard of the conversation, Tim Drake-Wayne was getting far too close to the truth. Circe didn’t like to think what would happen if Ra’s al-Ghul heard that some upstart reporter had managed to reunite them.

She whirled into her parlor, intending to call the new maid for tea, and stopped. Lois Lane was sitting on her couch, notebook in one hand, pen in the other, and the look of someone about to commit murder.

“Ms. Prince,” Lois said. “So glad you could make it.”

Circe regained her composure. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Chasing a story,” Lois said. “Your maid was good enough to let me in.”

“But…how did you get here before me?” Circe asked.

Lois smirked. “So you admit to being there,” she said. “Good…good start.” She made a note. “The voice recorder’s already going,” she said. “So don’t bother trying to say I’m lying when it hits.”

Circe glared. “I don’t recall agreeing to an interview.”

“Well, put it this way,” Lois said. “You can either agree to an interview with me now, or you can agree to it after you’ve been arrested and charged.”

“You have no evidence.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Lois said. “Before Diana started working at Wayne Manor, no one seemed to notice or care about her. Yet within a month of being hired there, there have been three different attempts to kill her. Not one of the Waynes, her. That makes me wonder—why try to kill a body guard? Well, no reason I can think of…unless someone didn’t want her in that household. Unless they had something to hide. Well…I have evidence of who she is, which makes me think this was political. And that led me to wonder—who would know? No one has heard from Princess Diyanah in seventeen years…most people think she’s dead. So…who would know that Diyanah became Diana…except for the aunt that raised her?” Lois put her pen to paper. “So…Circe…why are you so determined to kill her?”

Circe glared for a minute before she sat down. “Diyanah was smuggled out of Sataria without the knowledge of the king,” she said. “He intended her to die with her parents…become a tragic figure to rally the people behind the royal family against the revolutionaries. But Hippolyta got wind of the plot. She could hardly flee Sataria herself without raising Ra’s al-Ghul’s suspicions, but she could save Diyanah.  She entrusted her to Antiope, who brought her here…changed her name, and kept her from knowing she was a princess. Naturally, it didn’t take too long for Ra’s to find her again…a few years, anyway. And it was easy to arrange for Antiope’s death…but he decided that the girl should live.”

“Why?”

“He figured she might be useful. That’s when he contacted me. He gave me my fortune in exchange for taking Diana. He told me to keep her from knowing the truth…to keep her miserable.”

“That…makes no sense,” Lois said.

“Doesn’t it?” Circe asked. “He wanted her where he could keep an eye on her…and if he needed to, he could always swoop in with the truth. Offer her a better life…and if she was unhappy, she would accept…be malleable to his will. He would be her hero…the man who made her a princess.”

“And the man who found the lost princess,” Lois said. “He would make himself a hero to his own people as well.”

“Exactly,” Circe said. “But it would only work if no one else knew she was alive. You ruined that.”

Lois blinked. “Her picture was on the front page of the Planet,” she said. “People could see her…see where she was.”

“And she looks exactly like her mother,” Circe said. “Once the refugees saw it, it was only a matter of time before one of them recognized her.”

“So you dismissed her from the house,” Lois said. “You hoped she was die on the street so no one would realize it before it was too late.”

“Yes,” Circe said. “But…well, the Satari have a lot of superstitions about family and such. I suppose I should have realized she would find hers.”

“Yes,” Lois said. “I suppose you should have.” She finished writing and stood up.

“What are you going to do now?” Circe asked. She looked…old. Tired. Defeated. “Publish your story? Wait for the police to arrest me? Hope I get the death sentence for murdering her?”

Lois looked at her for a moment, her eyes full of anger. “I despise you, Circe,” she said. “I hope your life is miserable. I hope you rot in Hell. I hope you suffer every bit of pain you put on Diana and then some.” She took a breath. “But…I don’t want you to die. I don’t trust justice…part of being a journalist.” She glare for a minute. “I’m going to wait and see if Diana pulls through before publishing…I suggest you contact Ra’s al-Ghul and hope he’s merciful. If you start now, you can be back in Sataria before Monday’s paper is out.” She turned on her heel and left the house.

*

Tim sat next to Diana’s bedside, sipping at coffee, still shaking. The doctors said that there was a chance she’d pull through, that it was just a matter of waiting.

Tim hated waiting.

He had ordered a DNA test. Even if Diana didn’t make it, he had to know. Had to be sure of what he was losing. It would take time to get results, but he needed to know.

He’d been there for hours when the door to the room opened. He turned and to his surprise, Bruce was hurrying towards him.

“Tim,” Bruce said, hugging him. “Oh, Tim…”

Tim hugged back, confused. “When did you get back?” he asked thickly.

“About an hour ago,” Bruce said. “Dick told us what happened…well, what he knows, anyway.” Bruce pulled up another chair and looked at Diana. “He said she’s a bodyguard, but…who is she? Really?”

Tim swallowed heavily. “Her name is Diana,” he said. “She’s my sister.”

Bruce blinked. “Your sister?” he repeated. “But Talia said…” He sighed. “I think you’d better fill me in.”

Tim took a breath and told Bruce everything, from the moment Diana had walked into their lives. How he had felt drawn to her the moment he saw her, how she felt like home in a way that no one else ever had, how Lois’s investigation had turned up enough evidence for Tim to be almost certain. How he didn’t want to lose her.

Bruce listened until Tim was finished, and then was quiet for a long time. Finally, he sighed. “That’s…a lot, Timmy.”

“I know,” Tim said. “It is…I’m…honestly really overwhelmed by it.”

“I don’t blame you,” Bruce said. “I wish I could help, but…”

Tim nodded. “I’ve not said it enough,” he said. “But…you’re a great dad. And…and I’m really glad you accepted me into your family. I know you mostly felt obligated, but…”

“There was no obligation about it,” Bruce said. “Talia was long gone…and I swore that I wouldn’t be responsible for any of her family’s mistakes when she left. When you and Cass arrived…I took you in because I wanted to. Because I saw you were both hurting, and I wanted to help. And…I’m really glad I’ve got you two.”

Tim wiped at his eyes. “I know,” he said. “It’s…our family is…everything I could ever ask for. But…part of me still missed them. And…I don’t want to seem…ungrateful…or make any of you think you mean less…”

“Tim,” Bruce said. “It’s okay.” He moved closer and pulled Tim into his arms, letting him lean on his chest like a child. “I understand…she’s the sister you’ve missed for your entire life. You want to have that bond…and that’s okay.” He glanced at the unconscious figure on the bed. “When she wakes up…we’ll figure things out. But…if she wants to stay…I’ll be very glad to have her.”

*

She knew they were there. She could hear Tim’s voice, feel Lois’s hand. They were with her. She had to get back to them.

Her hand twitched, trying to grasp Lois’s back. Her lips moved, trying to answer Tim’s voice. Her eyes fluttered, trying to see them.

“Diana?” How could the unflappable Lois Lane sound so scared?

“Di, please.” How could the dangerous Tim Drake-Wayne sound so desperate?

But they did sound scared and desperate. They needed her…she needed them.

Diana steeled herself and opened her eyes.

They were on either side of her, holding her hands. She smiled, or tried to.

“Diana!” Lois leaned down and kissed her. “Oh, my dear…”

“Tim?” Diana gasped.

“I’m here,” he said. “I’m okay.”

“Dami?”

“He’s fine,” Tim said. “Shaken, but Bruce and Clark are back and they’re taking care of him.”

She nodded. “Circe?”

“Gone,” Lois said. “Once I got the story, she booked out of here. I suspect she’s back in Sataria…though I doubt Ra’s al-Ghul will be very forgiving.”

“We’ll explain later,” Tim added. “You just rest…we’ll take you home in a few days.”

Diana nodded, already fading.

“I love you, Diana,” Lois whispered. “So much.”

*

It was several days before Diana was able to stay awake long enough to listen to the story.

Lois explained how she’d gotten a confession out of Circe. “It’s enough proof even without the test,” she said. “You are Princess Diyanah…Ra’s al-Ghul wanted to be able to use you…and when that was made impossible, he decided to eliminate you instead.”

“Kind of his modus operandi,” Tim added. “The only reason I’m still alive is because he’d have a full-scale riot on his hands if he had me murdered.”

“So what does this mean?” Diana asked. “I mean…practically speaking, I can’t exactly barge into the Satari court and call the King a liar.”

Tim shrugged. “That’s up to you, I guess,” he said. “But you’re my sister…and Bruce says you’re welcome to join the family, if you want to. Princess or not.”

Diana smiled. “I think,” she said. “Well…I love your family…our family. But I’d like to stay on as Damian’s guard…if he’ll still let me. I don’t like not working. And…I’d like to keep being Diana Prince. It’s been my name for a long time, and I’ve gotten used to it.”

Lois glanced down. “Would you ever change it?” she asked.

Diana smiled and took her hand. “Ask me again in a year.”

Lois kissed her. Tim hugged her, and Diana felt like she was right where she belonged.

*

It was almost a month later that they even thought about talking about it again.

Diana returned to Wayne manor, met Bruce and Clark, both of whom embraced her without hesitation, welcoming her into the family like they’d planned this, like they’d been expecting her. It was a bit strange—she was an adult, and Clark Kent couldn’t have been more than a few years older than her, but they still behaved like she was their new daughter.

It was nice, even as she protested she’d rather remain a part of the staff.

So she did. She still sat in the coffee shop, keeping a very close eye on her cups. She still trained Damian, both in combat and dance, since he had expressed interest in improving his skill in the si’la roj. She still spent her Friday nights and Saturdays with Lois, always close to Lois. No more wandering on her own.

It was nice. Peaceful. Stable and loving, like she always wanted.

So when she heard someone pass by her door at three AM one day early in the spring, she was out of bed in an instant, picking up her si’la roj sword from the corner. She crept out and followed the footsteps silently out to a large balcony overlooking the garden.

She sighed in relief at realizing it was only Tim, wearing his ratty sweatpants and t-shirt, staring out over the garden and into the city. She approached quietly, aware that her nightgown was hardly appropriate for the weather but not minding too much. “Tim?”

He turned and smiled slightly. “Hey, Diana.”

She stood next to him, looking out with him. “Thinking of home?”

He nodded. “I miss it,” he said. “I know you don’t remember, but…it’s so beautiful, Diana. At least…on the surface. When you stay in the capitol, near the palace.”

“Beyond that?”

“Poverty,” he said. “Corruption. The nobility don’t care for anyone but themselves…that’s what I was fighting for. I was trying to help overthrow it…trying to establish a democracy. That’s my treason…I was more loyal to my people than the King.”

She nodded. “We will take it back,” she declared. “Ra’s al-Ghul wanted to keep us apart…he knew that together, we’re unstoppable. He knows that if you and me and Damian all go back…we’ll defeat him.”

“Yes,” Tim said. “We will. One day…I will return. And Sataria will know freedom.” He glanced at the sword in Diana’s hand and smirked a bit before going over to a small cupboard and producing his own. “‘I will only yield to three,’” he murmured.

“‘My brother, my sister, and my love,’” Diana finished. She raised her sword in challenge. “Si’la.”

Tim raised his own. “Roj et ni.”


End file.
